


Things I Hate About You

by Joel7th



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5592910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joel7th/pseuds/Joel7th
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The multi reasons why Aurora hated Elijah</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things I Hate About You

If there was one thing you, mortal or immortal, should never do in your life, it was asking Aurora de Martel why she hated Elijah Mikaelson. She wouldn’t let you leave until tomorrow.

Honestly, if she was to make a list of things she hated about that Original vampire, the scroll’s length would expand from Tristan’s Daville Estate to Jackson Square and be continued. God, she hated Elijah so much that outsiders may interpret such an intense hatred as a twisted manifestation of crazy love.

As if. Duh.

As to why she hated him, first and foremost, it was the century-long mind rape Elijah had performed on the three of them, reducing them from nobles to homeless hobos running across the country. Aurora had longed to be freed from the four stone walls of her father’s castle and travel the world, yet that was definitely not the kind of travel she had wanted or imagined. Being brainwashed to think they were the Mikaelsons didn’t necessarily equip them with the basic skills required for survival in the wilderness and many a time she had been forced to watch her brother and Lucien, her ‘brother’ by compulsion, fail epically at trying to make a fire or catching a rabbit. Tristan was a terrific hunter when they were themselves and living in their castle, but there was a slight nuance in hunting with bows and arrows, horses, hounds and a dozen servants accompanying him and hunting with his bare hand plus some rocks. And don’t even mention Lucien. He excelled in catching dead rabbits, not living ones, and dead rabbits were just as useful to them as the filthy rags they were wearing. Why did they have to catch rabbits, you ask? For their blood, of course. Being newborn vampires, the three of them were plagued with an appetite so humongous that they had to feed constantly. Hunt for villagers they didn’t dare; in fact they reminded one another to never wander near any villages in fear they might get caught and very likely be burnt at the stake. They would consider themselves lucky if some humans strayed from their road, but such days were few and far between. Since big carcasses might attract hunters’ attention, they sought to hunt for smaller animals and rabbits happened to be abundant. Thank the Lord the three of them did get better at fundamental skills after a few years or so as well as discovered their vampiric abilities. Still, the residue was too persistent that even after all these centuries, they would look at any rabbits, big or small, with heated eyes and a fervent grudge raging in their hearts.

Maybe, just may be Aurora wouldn’t hate Elijah that much if he had mustered enough damn to teach them a few things about living refuge lifestyle before sending them on the long run.

Then, there was the issue with The Strix. Just when she thought the three of them were finally free of the dreadful ‘Mikaelson effect’, Elijah somehow managed to wedge into their lives again with an idea to create an elite society of “the brightest minds and most passionate hearts” to make the world a better place for… for whom she didn’t quite figure out. Vampires? Oh, please. The amount of concern he gave for his own bloodline was about the size of the dust he allowed on his clothes. Humans? Why that wretched Original had never run for presidency, Aurora wondered. Her bright, wonderful brother she adored with all her black little heart, yet sometimes the only thing she wanted was smack him in the face, like when he wholeheartedly supported of that idea and was too quick to her liking to join Elijah in turning his idealism into reality. The result? A bunch of stern-faced, formal wearing vampires that got absolutely no chill, all stuck-up like Elijah and Tristan on his most stuck-up days. Just when Aurora believed it couldn’t get any worse, it did, and she almost bit her tongue to say the only thing that was more terrible than Elijah’s entering their lives again was Elijah’s leaving their lives. Again. Poor, poor Tristan. If only he had foreseen that day when Elijah would divorce him and abandon their fast-growing lot of vampires like they were undesired items. Took long years for her pitiful brother to piece himself together and as an act of retribution to Elijah’s betrayal, he transformed their co-founded group into something which centuries later would inspire _The Godfather_ and the likes.

So yes, Aurora hated the way Elijah kept checking in and out of their lives as if they were some sort of discount hotel. More infuriating was when she was convinced that incident had been the final straw and she had seen the last of him, that depraved Original had the face to appear in front of Tristan some dozens years later, haughty and impenitent as ever, and despite his previous bitterness, her brother didn’t want nothing to do him. Typical of Tristan − never turn his back from someone he deemed worthy, no matter how much trouble they had brought upon him, someone like Aurora, for instance. Their old, too predictable on-and-off cycle had been spinning till today, and Aurora had witnessed so many goddamned times that she didn’t bother to ask for his destination when he left her at the boring monastery.

If she was to cast aside some time to reflect on the matter and pinpoint the exact time her hatred for Elijah started taking root, Aurora would say it began on a summer night. She was having problem falling asleep again, and as usual, she was sneaking to Tristan’s chamber for completely innocent solace. As she approached the door, her sure footsteps faltered and halted in front of the threshold. She was hearing erratic sounds from behind the door − barred, to her surprise. Tristan normally never locked his chamber, knowing Aurora might abandon her own in favor of his any odd hour in the night. Out of curiosity, she pressed her ear against the rough oaken surface. She could hear them a little better now, soft moans as though someone was suffering and trying to muffle their cries. They sounded dauntingly like Tristan, and Aurora’s first panic thought was that her brother was in pain, which was a strange thing considering he had been fine a couple of hours ago. A louder noise entered her hearing, which she recognized to be the creaking of the old bed he refused to have replaced. She had spent too many nights on it to be a stranger to its senile voice. She squinted her eyes to look through a crack on the door and later wished a thousand times she hadn’t. Her heart made a huge leap and dived into fathomless depth with the sight of her Tristan bare and on all four with a familiar figure behind him − pounding into him to be more precise. Were she not already too shocked and traumatized she would worry about him being hurt by such barbarian treatment. She squeezed her eyes shut, covered her mouth and rushed down the stairs. Shrouded in a hazy mist, somehow she had made it back to her place without tripping and breaking her neck over the winding and slippery stairs. Once she was within the safe vicinity of her chamber, Aurora covered her head under her blanket, trying desperately to wash that obscenity from her mind. Needless to say, her sleep, when her eyelids were too heavy to open, wasn’t a peaceful one.

Even without all the brainwashing and The Strix issue, she would never in hell forgive Elijah for scarring her mind like that. More than anything, she loathed how effortlessly Elijah had robbed a sizable portion of Tristan’s affection, which should have been hers and hers alone. She was his darling little sister, the apple in his eyes after all, and she didn’t like the notion of sharing. God knew how she had tried and tried to be rid of Elijah for centuries, only to reach an unshakable truth: no matter what sort of ire Tristan had been brewing in his heart, he just couldn’t quit him. It made her cringe to think of Elijah as a terminal disease from which her brother couldn’t be cured − too similar to some cheesy pop song − but it was the closest comparison. As she heard Tristan and Lucien conspiring to seal all the Mikaelson siblings for good, she had a foreboding sense that at the crucial moment, Tristan would turn on Lucien to spare Elijah alone. In a perfect world, Tristan would keep Elijah daggered and drag a coffin with him wherever he traveled to rather than never seeing or touching him again. Poor, fortunate Lucien hadn’t been there to witness the zigzags in their relationship to comprehend Tristan’s complicated feelings for a certain Mikaelson. She wagered he wouldn’t want to, either.

Anyway, while Aurora could live with the knowledge that her beloved brother and her mortal enemy were shagging each other at every chance they got, there was one thing she could not absolutely accept.

“Aya, where’s my brother?” Aurora asked Tristan’s second-in-command once she set foot into the manor.

The short-haired, dark-skinned vampire lifted her head from the tablet screen she was reviewing to regard Aurora and took notice of her foul mood.

“He’s with—”

Aya was barely having two words out of her mouth when Aurora’s crimson figure had vanished in the long hallway. “…Nevermind,” she muttered, veering her attention back to the glimmering screen.

Knocking wasn’t her thing, especially when she entered her brother’s room. Although Tristan didn’t have any complaint about her unannounced intrusion, after today, Aurora might consider adjusting her die-hard habit.

The door swung open and Aurora stopped dead in her track. Her brother’s name froze on her lips as she went speechless with the sight presented to her wide eyes: on the couch were two male figures joined at the hip with their mouths locked in the rawest variation of a kiss. Articles of clothing were carelessly discarded around the space. A black tie lay right at Aurora’s feet and she had almost stepped on it in her entrance.

Thank God or whoever above that they had only managed to get rid of their jackets, ties, belts and shoes and were only half-way done with their shirts.

An unexpected third presence alerted them, causing them to come to their sense. With much reluctance, one of them disengaged his body from the other’s, putting a socially acceptable distance between them.

“Aurora,” Elijah pronounced her name in husky tone as he strode to the full-length mirror in the middle of the room to fix his mussed hair and the buttons of his shirt, “to what I owe your entirely unwelcome presence?”

“Elijah,” Aurora responded in kind, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “you seem too comfortable here to remember this is my house. It’s your presence that isn’t welcomed.”

“Oh? Your brother doesn’t seem to particularly mind an extra presence.”

“You returned early,” Tristan rose from the couch and cut in between them, verbally and physically, as soon as he sensed the tension was skyrocketing. “Is something the matter?”

Aurora tapped a lean finger on her chin.  “Aside from the sorry fact that my brother was pinned against the couch, nothing. Really, have you thought about calling the shot for a change, Tristan?”

“Aurora,” Tristan coughed. Stoic as he was, he couldn’t help a visible blush creeping up his neck, “could we discuss this perhaps at another, more appropriate time?”

Aurora glanced around and faked an innocent look. “I see no stranger here.”

“My dear Aurora, it’s as simple as a matter of preference. I see no reason to upset the status quo as it’s been perfect so far.”

Hell that it was perfect! Aurora cursed inside. This was one of the biggest reasons she had for detesting Elijah Mikaelson. Tristan had been a lord’s son and thus a future lord; it should have been he who was the Dom in this relationship. Full stop. No debate. Still, for centuries it had always been that brutish Viking who got to play the top. Where was the justice in that tyrannically imposed set roles? And don’t give her that “it’s impossible to top an Original” bullshit. Please. She topped Nik all the time.

Speaking of Nik…

A sharp smile formed at the corner of her coral lips. “Perfect? Don’t you agree, Tristan?”

Tristan remained silent while fidgeting with his daylight ring. Elijah appeared unfazed by whatever she was insinuating.

“Well, as much as it saddens me, I do notice that I’m not welcomed. I’ll leave you to attend to your unfinished ‘business’,” she said, turning on her stilettos. “In the mean time, I’ll pay Nik a surprise visit.”

Not waiting for either man’s reply, she flashed out of the manor.

A sibling for a sibling, thought Aurora with a cunning grin. With that she had made sure their unfinished business would remain unfinished.

For today, at least.

_End_


End file.
